


settle for the taste of touching glass

by KiriKay



Series: the sky under the sea [1]
Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Kissing, M/M, Self Indulgent As Fuck, Touch-Starved, bc i needed this in my life, touch starved!ai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-13 04:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13563240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiriKay/pseuds/KiriKay
Summary: It's hard to realize your touch starved when nobody really touches you at all; it's even harder to realize it when you don't think you can even be touch starved.(aka Ai is touch starved and doesn't know how to feel about it, while Ranmaru keeps managing to drag it out of him without meaning to)





	1. The Sky

**Author's Note:**

> hhhhhiiiiiii this is not super but idc im posting anyway
> 
> theres eventually a part 2 to this so stay tuned
> 
> title taken from "The Sky Beneath the Sea" by Pierce the Veil

Ai didn't know any better, _couldn't_ know any better, when it came to being a functioning person. He wasn't really _human_ , never really _treated_ human until he was folded into a unit and expected to adhere to all the human things he didn't know _to_ do. Ai knew how to be a high functioning android, not a sympathetic learner.

Quartet Night was gracious about it all, especially with how often Ai managed to make things awkward with his questions and lilting voice. Camus was the easiest on Ai’s nerves-- he didn't really _care_ about how odd Ai was, how many cues he missed. He was succinct and precise in explaining what Ai did wrong and how to fix it. Reiji was more into side stepping, dropping hints as to how Ai should act. It confuses Ai sometimes, guessing what he was supposed to do from Reiji’s small nudges. Reiji only did subtlety at the most inconvenient moments, Ai came to learn.

Ranmaru was more of a mix-- in private, he was outright, but around larger groups of people he took the subtle route. For Ranmaru, the subtle route was a more physical route.

Physicality was odd for Ai, too. He was used to the economic touches he was given-- checks by the doctor, hands offered to stand up, arms thrown out to break falls. Nothing else, really. Reiji was _very_ physical though; he could be rough without meaning to, but he loved hugging Ai often and giving him a squeeze whenever possible. It was sweet. Jarring, endlessly so when Reiji forgets himself and almost knocks Ai over, but still sweet.

Ranmaru wasn't nearly as heavy-handed about it, which was slightly surprising to Ai. Ranmaru put on such a gruff appearance that Ai almost couldn't connect the soft touches Ranmaru gave as cues to him.

They start on Ai’s arms-- a tap on the back of Ai’s shoulder, or a hand on his elbow. They make Ai pause and reanalyze his words, and those touches start adding up to, “too rude” or “too honest”; they become common in emotional situations in particular.

(Ai had no finesse for crying, really, always being _this_ side of too harsh in his comforts.)

Wordless communication becomes clearer and clearer as Quartet Night bonds more and more, but Ranmaru’s are always the easiest to translate for Ai. They become common place taps that he learns to appreciate when they save him from making a bad situation worse.

Then, the touches evolve.

Ai assumed in the back of his mind that they _would_ \-- everything develops after all, nothing can stay the same. He just had never thought of what his _reaction_ would be to that change; it had never occured to Ai to wonder about it.

Ai stands at the entrance of the kitchen in Reiji’s shared dorm, where both Quartet Night and Starish are stuffed inside. Reiji and Otoya had managed to convince everyone to gather for some _bonding time_ , and Reiji had bravely volunteered to cook for them all. Ranmaru had clicked his tongue and complained that there was no way Reiji could pull it off on his own, only to get lumped into kitchen duty too.

Ai was running interference; keep everyone out of their way, and keep Natsuki as far as possible. The easiest way was to talk with anyone who got close and eventually tell them to leave if they couldn't get the hint. Tokiya was leaning opposite of Ai, listening in interest as Ai rattles off how synth keyboards work. Somehow, Ai had gone from _generalizations_ to _very_ specific keyboard inputs, and how they differed, and while Tokiya was quick, he wasn’t nearly quick enough to catch Ai’s thoughts effectively.

Ranmaru splays his palm on the top of Ai’s back as he leans around Ai, free hand held out. Ai stiffens up so as to not fall over.

“Jinguji, pass me my phone.” he says, waving his hand impatiently. Ren unplugs it from where its charging, trotting over to pass it to Ranmaru.

Ranmaru ever so slowly runs his hand down Ai’s back, pressure even and hot, as he grabs his phone. He's not even _looking_ at Ai, already turning back into the kitchen, but Ai’s words stutter and slow as he shivers a little. Tokiya looks relieved, only to quickly become irritated when Ren drags him off with a lilting “ _Ikki_!”

“I was in the _middle_ of something-- Sorry!” he manages to throw back to Ai as he’s dragged into the fray.

Ai blinks quickly, mouth still and pupils blown wide. A quick scan tells him there's an odd buzz in his voice, but nothing that couldn't be explained away by having spoken for so long.

Nothing is wrong.

Ai isn't so sure about that.

Ranmaru takes to dragging his palm down Ai’s back when Ai is too _overwhelming_ , voice too pitched and words too fast. It never fails to slow Ai down, never fails to drag a shiver across his shoulders.

The reaction isn't. . . _bad_ , really. Ai doesn't feel _worse_ after it. He just feels conflictingly _warm_ and _shaken_.

Ranmaru doesn't seem to notice Ai’s odd reactions. Ai doesn't mention it.

It becomes the norm, until its not.

Time had a way of changing Ai’s relationships without warning, quick and subtle like a talented thief. It’s time that brought a hand on Ai’s side, guiding him through a crowd, fingertips putting small pinpricks of pressure through Ai’s clothes. Ranmaru is a pro at weaving between people, and he guides Ai with a steady ease. Slipping from the crowded street and into the studio, Ai shivers a little; Ranmaru’s grip tightens in tandem, a concerned hold as opposed to the relaxed one from before.

Ranmaru lets go and Ai’s shivers double up before finally slipping out of him as they sign into their recording slot. As they go further into the building, away from the receptionist, Ranmaru speaks up.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and Ai bites his cheek a little.

“Fine.” Ai replies, smoothing out his loose hair in an anxious twitch. He still couldn't define his odd reactions, the warm feeling it left behind slightly pleasant, and so he’d much rather not mention them until he knew more.

“ _Ai_.”

“ _Ranmaru_.”

Ranmaru huffs and grabs Ai’s wrist, stopping him and turning him so that they’re face to face. His thumb presses against the inside of Ai’s wrist, and Ai’s twists his lips to the side.

“I'm not an idiot.” Ranmaru says and let's go of Ai.

“I suppose not, but I'm not a liar.” Ai replies, dragging a finger tip across his freed wrist. It feels warm. “I _am_ fine.”

Ranmaru doesn't seem convinced, not really, but he huffs and turns suddenly, marching ahead of Ai and into the booth. Ai hesitates a moment, pressing hard against his skin before dropping his hand and following Ranmaru inside.

Hopefully, time would take pity on Ai and keep Ranmaru’s soft touches to himself.


	2. The Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cant believe i wrote this its so sappy
> 
> anyway it seems lie u guys rly liked this so im v happy to bring u guys ch2!

Ai is quick to learn time pities no-one, especially not in relation to him. Time pulls him directly into Ranmaru’s arms, against his mouth, his cheeks, his chest, nestles him into his heart firmly and refuses to let anything move. The soft touches multiply fiercely, and Ai enjoys them as much as he resists reacting.

It's hard though, because Ranmaru doesn't seem to know how to keep his hands to himself once the dam is broken by the word  _ boyfriend _ .

Ranmaru likes to weave his fingers with Ai’s and pull him close when he wants to say something particularly romantic; he pitches his voice low, talks directly against Ai’s temple to shower his hair with kisses, and it  _ always _ manages to unravel Ai. Goosebumps prickle all across Ai’s arms, and if he happens to lean into Ranmaru more every time, Ranmaru doesn't mention it; he just whispers more things that make Ai’s icy resolve melt until he forces himself to let go before he becomes a puddle.

Ranmaru takes to cupping Ai’s cheek to ask for kisses, thumb dragging under Ai’s eye with startling care, until Ai obliges. Kisses are the hardest, the best, the  _ strongest _ , Ai’s entire body protesting its forced stillness; his silicone skin screams to squirm under Ranmaru’s lips, burning with mixed signals that echo across each individual wire hours after they've last touched.

_ That _ was the worst part of all: still  _ feeling _ for hours. It felt like Ai was aching for another hug, another hand through his hair, another  _ anything _ to satiate the irrational flare of  _ want _ . Ai was nothing if not diligently controlled, though, and even if it meant spending a whole day with after shock induced shudders, he'd deal with it.

The hand on his back is what does him in, in the end.

Ranmaru was at his most physical when they were lounging around, loose limbed and relaxed during informal band meetings. Around others, it came out to an arm around Ai’s waist, fingertips gliding over his shirt in lazy patterns. Sometimes, if Ai shifts too much, he manages to drag over a sliver of exposed skin, and Ai struggles to relax into Ranmaru’s side.

Ranmaru stops suddenly, just splaying his hand over Ai’s clothes, and once their impromptu band meeting is over and Reiji and Camus have shuffle out, he speaks.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

Ai blinks, turning a little to look at Ranmaru. Ranmaru’s hand slips down until it hits the couch.

“No.” Ai replies simply. “I would tell you if you were.”

“Every time I touch you, you tense up.” Ranmaru continues, every part of his face shining with concern. “At first I just thought you were just getting used to me, but now. . .”

“You  _ really _ don't make me uncomfortable.” Ai insists, wrapping his arms around Ranmaru’s shoulders and tugging him close.

Ai leans up, pressing a kiss to Ranmaru’s nose teasingly. Ranmaru splays his hands on Ai’s back, one dragging up his spine as Ranmaru steals a kiss, and it’s a little  _ too _ much. A shiver burns its way through Ai, warm and confusing, and Ranmaru pauses.

“Like that,” he murmurs, close to Ai’s lips still, almost teasing despite the explosive edge to his voice. “I touch you and it feels like I hurt you. It was like that before, too.”

“You didn't, though. I don't know how to describe it,” Ai replies quietly. “I don't have anything to compare it to. It’s not. . . unpleasant, not at all, but it's jarring. I'm not used to it.”

Something seems to click for Ranmaru after a moment, and he takes both hands off of Ai’s back. Ai can still feel the imprint of heat but doesn't move, patient and curious.

“You spent a long time by yourself, right?” Ranmaru asks.

“For the most part, yes.” Ai says, head tilting to the side.

“And you're not very physically affectionate?”

“Ah, not really? I wasn't programmed to be very physically affectionate, and I have yet to grow into it except--  _ well _ . Except with you, so far.”

Ranmaru hums, lifting a hand to twirl a strand of Ai’s hair. Ai’s lips twitch into a little, soft smile.

“Ai,” Ranmaru says with a half-huff, half-laugh. “You’re not used to touch; you have no idea what to feel.”

“. . . That makes sense, I suppose.”

“How about you look it up in that head of yours?” Ranmaru suggests, dragging his knuckle across Ai’s cheek.

It's easy enough, even as Ranmaru starts to touch Ai again; he runs his thumb across Ai’s jaw, down Ai’s neck before deciding to rest on Ai’s side, putting some pressure against him. His other hand wanders to Ai’s back again, warm and slow in its ministrations.

“Positive touch starvation.” Ai finally says, and his voice quivers a little as he speaks. “Causes reactions needed for positive social pleasures to be underdeveloped. Lack of positive touch can create addictive behavior, meaning sufferers seek addictions to replace or replicate the sensation.”

As Ai talks, his hands wander and starts twirling tufts of silvery white, fingers moving with pent up energy. The entire time, Ranmaru makes little “I'm listening” noises as he drags his palms up and down, slowly warming Ai up; then, he rests his hands on Ai’s hips, pressing his fingertips to the strip of skin showing between Ai’s shirt and pants.

Ai let's out an undignified squeak, hands freezing despite the way the rest of him shudders.

“Too much?”

“. . . Just, ah, stay still?”

“Sure.”

Ai buries his nose against Ranmaru’s shoulder, and Ranmaru laughs a little, the sound vibrating through his chest. It was soothingly  _ familiar _ , and slowly Ai relaxes despite his consistent shaking. Ranmaru hasn't moved, hasn't pressed, just puffs soft amused banter into Ai’s ear.

“It’s weird to think you could be touch starved,” Ranmaru admits quietly. “But it makes sense; you're  _ lonely _ . You need to be coddled a little, don't you?”

“You’re  _ awful _ at coddling me.” Ai shoots back, turning his head to watch Ranmaru’s profile. “I think  _ nice _ isn’t part of your vocabulary.”

“No faith!” Ranmaru acuses.

“No faith.” Ai confirms.

With a smile, Ranmaru starts dragging his fingertips across Ai’s side, the touch reverent and unbearably soft. Ai tightens his grip a little, trying to brave the feeling-- that is, until Ranmaru stops suddenly.

“We can take it easy.” he says at Ai’s confused look. “You don't have to get used to it all at once.”

(Privately, Ai thinks he could drown in Ranmaru's touches; could drown in the teasing hair tugs, the adoring kisses, the sunshine heat of his hands. They were blissfully pure, unsullied by Ai’s mind and his purpose; they felt like Ranmaru cared more about  _ Ai _ than what Ai could  _ do _ , and it was dizzyingly  _ good _ .)

Ai hums his approval, kissing Ranmaru’s jaw; a  _ thank you _ .

“Okay. I can do this.”

“If you  _ want _ to.”

“Only if  _ you _ take responsibility.” Ai murmurs, voice edging on mocking. “It  _ is _ all  _ your _ fault I'm like this, after all.”

“It’d be a pleasure.” Ranmaru shoots back readily, kissing Ai’s forehead.

Ai would love to relax right into Ranmaru’s chest without feeling a little overwhelmed in that moment. Maybe time would do what it did best, though: change the world, and maybe change Ai a little too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh i think i wanna work in this, like, timeline more
> 
> anyway catch me on [tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) if u wanna hang out and talk!

**Author's Note:**

> see y'all soooooooooooon
> 
> if you want some More i have a [tumblr](http://selenolatries.tumblr.com/) for my writing stuff and questions!!!


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